


Ignis’s Sweet and Spicy Cygillan Crab (Spicy Version)

by 1000Needles



Series: Ignis’s Sweet and Spicy Cygillan Crab [1]
Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: BDSM, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-15
Updated: 2016-12-15
Packaged: 2018-09-08 17:29:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,032
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8854366
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/1000Needles/pseuds/1000Needles
Summary: King's Knight isn't the only game that Ignis and Gladio like to play. Consensual light kink and spoilers through Lestallum.





	

“I’m the darkness, you’re the stars.”

—“Aria di Mezzo Carattere” from _Maria and Draco,_ FFVI

 

“Everyone, regroup!” Ignis snapped. The others fell back into place obediently.

Gladio grinned and rolled his shoulders, letting the curative soak deeply into his skin like a good massage. Something about Ignis’s magic was more refreshing than your average potion or elixir. All in all, it had been a successful hunt: the crabs would make a delicious curry.

Galdin Quay was golden at dusk, whirling with activity, crowded and loud, but the campground was far from the noise and they were the only ones staying there; the annoying family with the loud child had opted for the relative comfort of the caravan. Ignis was boiling a pot of birdbeast eggs in their shells. “Quite nutritious road snacks,” he said, “much preferable to those horrible bags of orange chips you all like so much.” Noct and Prompto sprawled around, playing with their phones, until Ignis sent them off to catch fish for the curry.

“Don’t you ever get tired of telling them what to do?” Gladio teased from his camp chair, legs pushed out in front of him and his book perched on one knee.

“No. What are you reading?”

“It’s a retelling of _Maria and Draco._ ” He dogeared the page and passed the book to Ignis. “She gets pretty creative with a slave crown.”

“Oof.” Ignis squinted through his lenses. “Neither safe, sane, nor historically accurate.”

Gladio looked over, interested. “And where did you pick up that phrase?”

“It’s hardly possible to socialize in Crown City without picking up a few things. We are a decadent civilization. Only a few years before the empire falls to barbarian hordes, I imagine.”

“Don't deflect. Is that what you were up to with that Kingsglaive guy? He was hot. Why don't you bring him around anymore?”

“Aren't you nosy.” Ignis took the birdbeast eggs off the burner and begin to transfer them gently into a bowl of cold water. “On the contrary. Vanilla, while a charming addition to many recipes, is a flavor that does not excite me.”

“So why don’t you ever seem to have a play partner?”

“High standards.”

“And they all just assume you’re a dom,” Gladio said casually.

“Well, ye—” Ignis caught himself mid-word. “Aren’t you clever.”

He laughed and threw his book down. “I knew it! Anyone who loves giving orders as much as you do—”

“Indeed,” said Ignis coolly. “Whereas most people assume you’re a brute, and only I know you spend all your time with your nose in a book.”

Gladio grinned. If I’ve misjudged this, our next few nights will be mighty awkward, he thought. Then he reached out and grasped Ignis’s hair, pulled his head back. “That’s where you’re wrong,” he said. “People think I’m nice because I know how to give them what they want. I can read you just like this book, Iggy.” He put his lips close to Ignis’s ear. “I know exactly what you want.”

Ignis hissed through his teeth, a sharp intake of breath. “You— are the only person allowed to call me that.”

Gladio twined his fingers tighter, tugged gently, making Ignis gasp. “Is that a yes?” 

He waited. 

“Yes,” Ignis whispered.

“Good.” He released his grip. Ignis lifted his hand as if to rub his head and thought better of it, stopped halfway. His pale face was beginning to flush pink. Gladio picked up his book again.

“That’s it?” Ignis was doing his best to remain deadpan, but his voice was a touch higher than usual.

“You never stop driving, do you?” Gladio said, turning a page without looking up. “Hand me an egg.” 

Ignis did, wordlessly. “Open your mouth.” He went deeper red, but complied. Gladio popped the egg in and tapped his jaw gently. “There you go. Keep your mouth shut and don’t play with your phone.” He went back to his book. Ignis sat, very still, hot with outrage and arousal, trying not to imagine how ridiculous he looked.

After a long while they saw lights bobbing up the beach, and Gladio held out his hand. “Spit.” He rubbed the egg clean on his shirt. Ignis flexed his jaw. The others burst into camp like a pack of sabertusks.

“Dude! We caught a glowing barrelfish!” Prompto yelled, hurling himself around the fire. “Check it out! And Noct broke three lines!”

“Whatever,” Noctis sighed, flopping into a chair.

Gladio and Ignis caught each other’s eyes and smiled.

 

LOADING

 

They parked outside a Coernix Station near the lake. “Waltz for the Moon” came on shuffle. 

Gladio handled Ignis a little box, the kind that jewelers use for rings, with the Hammerhead logo stamped across the top. Ignis opened it and felt his mouth fill with saliva; he swallowed thickly. “Did Cindy make these?”

“She might seem sweet, but she’s got a cruel streak wider than the Disc. Lift your shirt.” Ignis did it quickly, before he could talk himself out of it, hoping the reflection of neon on his glasses hid the look in his eyes; he was desperately embarrassed, and desperately turned on.

The pain was sharp, bright, mind-clearing. Gladio adjusted the clamps and smoothed his shirt back down; Ignis couldn't hide his flinch as Gladio’s fingers brushed his nipples. He pulled Ignis’s lapels straight and smiled. “Don't you look handsome. Now take this gil and go buy a few things for me at the station.”

“What do you want?” Ignis asked, light-headed, getting out of the car; Gladio grinned.

“I could use a drink. And get a dog collar, leash, and a little rubber ball.” Ignis stared in horror. “Oh, don’t be so dramatic. He doesn't know you don't have a dog.”

“But—”

“ _Now,_ Iggy.” Gladio opened his book dismissively.

Ignis walked into the store, his boot heels clicking audibly in the quiet, empty room. How many times have I gone into a gas station for a drink? he thought. But never like this. A wave of unreality swept him; only the bite of the clamps held him grounded. He picked up a collar from the display, let the leather run through his gloved hands.

I have a lord’s degree in gastronomic science from the Royal University of Crown City, he thought, and I am buying a dog collar for my own neck in a dirty store that stinks of petrol; and he shuddered violently with shame and pleasure.

The clerk, of course, rang him up without any particular interest in his purchases. He got back in the car and handed Gladio the bag.

“Here you go.”

“That's here you go, sir,” Gladio said mildly. Ignis rolled his eyes.

“Seriously?”

Gladio reached for his chest. Ignis braced himself, but Gladio only brushed his fingers across a trapped nipple; it was somehow more humiliating than the twist Ignis had been expecting, and his face flamed red again.

“I love how you’re willing to give up what you desperately want, just because you're too cool to admit that you actually like it. That’s so _you,_ Iggy.”

Ignis dipped his head and whispered, “Yes, sir.”

“More like it.” He cuffed Ignis affectionately. “Drive.”

 

LOADING

 

It wasn't until days later, when they arrived in Lestallum, that Prompto finally announced, “Hey, we’re going down to the market to take photos, you guys want to come?” and they were able to lock eyes in silent relief.

“No, thanks,” said Gladio. “We're going to look for, uh, interesting beans.” Ignis couldn't hold back a snicker.

They conferred breathlessly—“Not the Leville,” “No,” and tumbled through the streets until they found a fleabag motel around a likely corner. As soon as they’d paid and raced up the stairs and thrown the door closed behind them, Ignis pinned Gladio to the wall and hissed, “I want you so badly I can't think straight.”

“Nothing about you is straight.” Ignis groaned. “And lose the jacket.” Gladio threw his own jacket on the bed, sprawled languorously, bare-chested, and watched as Ignis hung his carefully in the closet. “Now get over here and take my boots off.” 

Ignis was too eager to bother hesitating; he dropped to his knees and wrestled them off. “Ugh, your feet stink. When was the last time you showered?”

Gladio roared with laughter. “Fine, I can take a hint. Kneel up straight first.” Ignis put his hands behind his back, dipped his chin. “Very pretty instincts.” He ran a finger down Ignis's jawline, hooked it under his chin. “But I want you watching this.”

He reached into his jacket and pulled out the bag from the gas station. Oh, no, Ignis thought; he’d been half-hoping Gladio had forgotten, half-afraid that he had. He fought the urge to drop his gaze, controlled his breathing as well as he could, and knew it was useless; his face had never felt so nakedly open.

Gladio drew out the collar, clasped it snugly around Ignis's neck, and leaned back on his elbows. “Nice,” he said. “Shirt off too, I think.”

The buttons took far too long, his fingers stuttering over each one. He finally got it off and dropped it by his side.

“Yeah,” Gladio said, his voice deep and warm and caressing, heavy with desire. “That's very fucking nice.” Then he leaned forward and clipped the leash to Ignis’s collar. In a brisk movement he was up from the bed and striding across the room, pulling Ignis off balance onto his hands and knees with an undignified yelp.

“Try to keep up,” he said cheerfully as Ignis scrambled behind him. Two more steps and he was at the desk, knotting the leash around a chair leg. “Stay,” he said, rumpling Ignis's hair, and went into the bathroom to turn on the shower.

Ignis stared at the faded pattern of the motel carpet and let the white noise of the shower wash over him, soothing, meditative. When it turned off he stayed where he was, not looking up. He could hear Gladio toweling off, humming tunelessly (was it “Waltz for the Moon?”). Then a warm foot on his back, toes stroking his spine. He jerked in surprise; he hadn't heard him coming.

“Shh,” said Gladio, pushing him onto his side. “Better? I even scrubbed.” He slid his clean, slightly damp foot up Ignis's chest, placed the sole firmly on his cheek, pressing his face hard against the carpet. Ignis wanted to say something cutting and dry but moaned softly before he could stop himself.

“I couldn't agree more,” Gladio said, untangling the leash. “Now, where were we?” He pulled; Ignis got his arms and legs back in working order and followed on hands and knees, past the point of embarrassment, only wanting to feel again Gladio’s shower-warmed skin on his. Gladio sat on the bed and reeled him in, wrapping the leather in one broad hand until Ignis was up off his knees, hands on Gladio’s thighs, and then their mouths met finally, finally, in a deep kiss. Ignis had heard such moments described as electric. Having some experience of lightning, he realized it was nothing like that: it was like vertigo, it was like one of those dreams where you’re falling and the sensation is not fear but sweet exhilaration. He pushed Gladio back onto the bed, ran his tongue up his scar. Gladio sighed in pleasure, tipping his head back, and said, “Why did we wait so long?”

“I wasn't nearly as much fun at university,” Ignis said. “I know quite a few more tricks now.” They wrestled together, limbs sliding deliciously against limbs, until Gladio’s towel was on the floor and he said, “Why are your pants still on?”

“Good question,” Ignis said, straddling him; he ran his fingers slowly down his own chest, holding Gladio’s eyes the whole time, and began undoing the buttons with strip-tease slowness, letting his touch linger on every inch of skin. Gladio groaned and arched into him. “Oh, fuck, Iggy. You're driving me crazy.”

Ignis leaned forward and breathed into his ear, “I never stop driving.” He kicked off his pants.

 

LOADING

 

Later, when they lay sprawled against each other, Ignis said sleepily, “What was the rubber ball for?”

“Next time,” Gladio said.


End file.
